Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
I’m going to scour every inch of this place until I find her. I leave the dungeon and head to the private room. I make sure one more time it’s empty and look around for any clues that might tip me off to where she’s gone, but all I see is a crumpled piece of paper that’s fallen to the floor. I pick it up and unfold it, frowning at the words that look almost foreign.
Sir, thank you for everything you’ve done. Love, Missy
It takes me a minute to even realize where this note came from, then I remember. It must be four or five years old. I probably tossed it on the dresser and it fell into the drawer, because I haven’t known anyone by the name of Missy for a long time. Furrowing my brow, I think. I have a vague memory of a petite college-aged girl who came in here before she moved away. She needed someone to talk to, and there were a few nights we scened together, but it was nothing serious at all. I toss the paper into the trash.
Did Chandra see this and get the wrong idea? I need to find her. We need to talk.Did she leave? Jesus.
I go back to the dungeon and find Zack. When I see him, he gives me a chin lift and flags me down.
“Gotta talk,” Zack says, as soon as I reach him.
“Yeah, man. Me, too. You first.”
He pulls out his phone and opens up a file. “Names and faces,” he says. He can’t say much in public with everyone here, though, so he has to be discreet. “Three here tonight.”
I shake my head. “You confirmed this?”
“Yep. One by the spanking bench at ten o’clock, one by the pool tables, one just walked in.”
I don’t look, because I don’t want to draw suspicion. I’ll be looking for them, though. I’ll fucking tail their asses. But I need to find Chandra.
“Listen,” I tell him. I explain to him about Chandra leaving, the note I found, and the fact that my phone’s gone and when I’m talking my adrenaline pumps, my heartbeat racing. Something’s off, and I’m worried about Chandra.
“I don’t like the fact that your phone’s gone,” he says in a low voice only I can hear. “And I came in here and the fucking smoke machine’s going. I told them to shut it off, but they say they have instructions from Tobias and I haven’t been able to reach him. Can’t see a fucking thing.” He shakes his head. “If the wrong person has your phone, they could text her pretending to be you.”
Fuck. Damnit.
I look around the room, trying desperately to find her, but it’s too hard to see anything and there are way more people than I’m used to. Outside this room a commotion breaks out by the bar area, and the walkie talkie Zack carries on DM nights sounds. He hits a button and Travis’s voice comes through.
“Fight by the pool tables,” he says. The walkie talkie clatters down and I figure Travis has gone to break it up. Zack shakes his head. “Keep an eye on things in here,” he says, and he leaves.
I hear a scream behind me and turn to see a man lighting into a woman. She’s bound and cuffed to the whipping post and he’s plying the whip so hard it makes even me cringe, and I’ve seen a fuck ton of intense scenes. Jesus. I can’t interfere, though, not unless I have reason to believe he’s taking advantage of her. Members take things far here, sometimes, and it’s my job as DM not only to not interfere, but make sure no one else does.
And I need to find Chandra. On my way over to stand by the whipping post, though, I hear a cry that’s all too familiar to my ears. I scan the room, dim and clouded with smoke, but I’d recognize that hair, the curve of her shoulders and sweet face knelt insubmission. It’s Chandra. She’s cuffed and gagged and kneeling by a bench, and there’s a man standing right next to her. A chill runs over me. He’s my height, covered in tats, and wearing the same t-shirt I am. I take off at a run.
Chapter Sixteen
Chandra
I came in here as I was instructed and knelt by the bench, but I didn’t see Axle. I need to talk to him. I have to see him. We need to figure out what’s going on. I’m tender and afraid, and I need Axle.
And then I see him, standing a good distance away. I recognize his t-shirt but before he comes any closer, he snaps his fingers and points to the ground, an indication for me to look down. I don’t at first. I’m angry at him. But he does it again, and I don’t want to begin with him angry at me or we’ll never be able to talk.